Counting Scars
by Mingamelon
Summary: After a prank blows up in his face, Prussia finds out Austria's most guarded secret, and the reason he dresses so modestly. One-shot, PrussiaAustria.


**Author's Note:** De-anoning from the Hetalia Kink Meme. The request- _One of the reasons Austria is so careful about always wearing dressing modestly is that he has several ugly scars which he's very self-conscious about. One day, Prussia somehow spots Austria partially clothed and is shocked to see that pretty boy's skin is much less perfect than one would think considering his snooty aristocratic visage._

I hope sulky!Austria didn't come out too OOC. *worries*

I don't own Hetalia! What on Earth would give you the idea that I did?

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><p><em>Dammit, we're going to be late!<em> Prussia thought to himself as he stared down a set of doors. He had already knocked twice and was getting impatient at Austria's blatant lack of respect for not letting him in sooner.

It wasn't so much that Prussia himself was worried about being late for the World Conference. He was goddamn _Prussia_, he could show up whenever he pleased. No, it was hearing the ear grating lectures and drama from his partner over the woe of their tardiness that Prussia wanted to avoid.

Prussia contemplated leaving Austria behind and smirked at the thought. _That'd teach him for wasting my time! He's probably just doing his nails or something equally stupid..._

At that moment, an idea crossed the germanic nation's mind and his smirk broadened. He'd sneak into Austria's house and see just what the brunet was up to in there. As Prussia gently twisted the door handle, he couldn't hide his mischievous glee at the prospect of catching Austria doing something embarrassing.

Prussia snuck stealthily into Austria's house, setting down each foot with care and listened for the other nation's whereabouts. Austria wasn't in the living room, nor the piano room, nor the kitchen. Straining his ears, Prussia could tell the brunet wasn't in the shower.

Prussia found himself slinking down a hallway when he heard a rustling sound coming from one of the rooms. Positioning himself in front of the door, he raised a leg and gave it a powerful kick, sending the door swinging wide open and banging against the inside wall.

"Quit dollin' up, honey, I'm sure you look-" The sarcastic words stuck in his throat as Prussia got a good look at the scene unfolding before him. He suddenly remembered a key point in his and Austria's relationship- no matter how intimate they got, Austria would never allow Prussia to take off his clothes, especially his shirt. All this time, Prussia thought it was because Austria was just too nervous to go to the next step.

The reality was much, much worse. Austria stood shirtless and stock-still as if he were rooted to the spot, the shirt he was about to dress himself with clenched so hard in his hands that his knuckles were white. Prussia stole a glance at his partner's unclothed chest and instantly wished he could take the obvious notion back, for he saw not the flawless, ivory skin that he had come to associate with Austria's face and hands, but an uncountable series of disfiguring scars crossing everywhere that a modest shirt would usually hide.

Prussia guiltily lifted his gaze to his partner's violet eyes and felt his stomach twist. He had expected Austria to be beyond angry with him, but what he saw on the brunet's face was a mixture of shame and self loathing.

"Roderich, I didn't mean..." Against his better judgment, Prussia took a step forward and placed a hand on his partner's shoulder.

Austria shrugged it off. "Get out." He murmured softly.

Prussia didn't move.

"I said _**get out**_!" Austria yelled, giving Prussia such a sudden and rough shove that he almost toppled over into the hall. Just as he managed to regain his footing, the door was slammed in his face.

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><p>Perhaps it was because there was nothing of interest going on in the world or the nagging situation that he found himself in with Austria, but Prussia could not for the life of him concentrate at the World Conference that day.<p>

The trip to the conference was tense and silent, two things Prussia hated the most in the world. But Prussia couldn't bring himself to break the uncomfortable atmosphere then for the same reason he couldn't now on the trip home- ever since he saw Austria's scars, his partner had had a crushingly mortified air about him, as if the smallest thing would make him break down. Austria had managed to somehow save face when he was at the conference, but his demeanor quickly dropped when the two arrived at his house.

At this point, Prussia knew Austria wasn't going to recover of his own accord. He found his partner in the living room, sitting on the couch and lost to his thoughts.

"Stop sulking." The germanic nation growled, his annoyance evident. "It's not the end of the world, I was bound to see 'em eventually." He stood right in front of Austria, silently challenging the brunet to look him in the eye.

But still Austria's sight remained at the floor. "They're ugly." He paused, his voice soft as he admitted it aloud. "And so am I."

Prussia grit his teeth. "Shut up. Stuff like that tells your life's story- the battles you fought and the lessons you learned. Don't be ashamed of it, be _proud_ of it."

Austria narrowed his eyes and let out an undignified snort. "You wouldn't know how I feel." The brunet muttered bitterly.

That accusation did it. Anger welling up inside him, Prussia hastily tore his jacket open, sending a button or two flying. "Look and see for yourself, you damn aristocrat!"

His partner lifted his gaze and his eyes widened in shock before hastily returning his fixed stare to the floor.

"Oh no you don't!" Prussia commanded as he clapped both of his hands on the sides of Austria's head and tilted it up. Austria instinctively shut his eyes tight and shook his head. "Get a good look, Roderich!"

The brunet didn't know what made him obey, but he found himself slowly opening his eyes and tracing his sight up and down Prussia's exposed skin.

The "story" Prussia's scars told was easy to read- there were not as many as Austria bore, but the scars swept in great length's over Prussia's body. The marks looked like they were horribly taken care of when they were wounds, indicating that Prussia himself had mended them and hadn't given them the proper time to recover before charging off hardheadedly again.

"Gil-"

"Don't give me those doe-eyes, Roderich. I'm damn proud of what I've accomplished." Realizing he might have pushed his partner a little too hard, Prussia's expression softened. "Besides, I just so happen to think scars are sexy as hell."

With that said, Prussia released the brunet from his grip and flopped next to him on the couch, and the two didn't speak for a few minutes.

"I was protecting them." Austria murmured suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?" Prussia shot a curious glance at the other nation.

Austria looked down at his hands. "My hands. Maybe I wouldn't have so many scars if I didn't drop everything to protect them. But I might as well have died on the battlefield if I was rendered unable to play the piano..."

Figuring he had been rough enough on Austria for one day, Prussia slipped an arm around the brunet and pulled him close, taking one of Austria's hands with his free one and giving it a squeeze. "If it's any consolation, I'm glad you fought so hard to protect something so important."

Austria heaved a heavy sigh, letting the built up tension of the day's events roll off his shoulders. "Thank you for the comfort, Gilbert."

"If it means seeing you shirtless more often? Any time."


End file.
